


Balance

by Orithain, Rina9294



Series: Reactionary POVs [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-02 04:46:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5234639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orithain/pseuds/Orithain, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rina9294/pseuds/Rina9294
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John contemplates his choices and their results, and Rodney contemplates John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John: Balance

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted July 2005.

It’s kind of ironic really. A year ago, give or take, I was stationed at quite literally the ass-end of the world, no matter what I said about liking it there, because I’d disobeyed a direct order in order to save lives. My friends still died; I was sent to the worst duty station they could think of; and it all indirectly led to me being here.

Atlantis.

The lost city of the Ancients, located in another freaking _galaxy_ , where I’m the highest ranking officer, in charge of keeping everyone alive despite my civilian commander ignoring my advice when she thinks she knows better. And sometimes she turns out to be right - go figure. But it’s still my responsibility, a responsibility I never wanted, and suddenly I find myself killing people. Lots of people.

Sumner. Wraith. Dozens of Genii whose names I’ll never know. Soldiers who died at my orders.

I’m a pilot, damn it. When I fight, it’s supposed to be from the air, clean and neat. I’m not supposed to see their eyes as they die.

But it’s them or us. The Wraith or Atlantis and eventually Earth. The Genii or McKay.

And that’s another weird thing.

I’ve always known I was interested in men as well as women, but being in the Air Force and all, I’ve mostly confined myself to the opposite sex. Which explains my three ex-wives. Tall, gorgeous, busty, very female. That was my type. And then I met the most annoying man in two galaxies, not to mention the smartest, and I fell hard. Maybe it was because his eyes are the color of the sky I love to fly through, or maybe because he saw past the act I use to keep people out and saw _me_. But whatever the reason, I can’t imagine not being with him now.

Just like I can’t imagine anywhere else as home anymore. So I guess it’s a good thing Elizabeth wants to keep me here too. We’re a good team, all of us, despite our losses.

Still, it’s funny that I ended up here because of trying to save lives, and because I was here, I’ve ended up taking them.


	2. Rodney: Halo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An angel on the balcony is worth a case of cold feet.

Okay, why am I shivering in my bed at a much too early hour in the morning when I should be warm and asleep next to my very comfortable body pillow, John Sheppard?

The sheets beside me are cool, and so is the breeze coming in from the open balcony door... Open balcony door? What the...

For a moment, I’m sure I’m dreaming because I swear there’s an angel standing there in the early morning light. Not one of the harp, robe, and white wings angels, but one of the post-modern, hard-edged ones. Dangerous, smart, and so fucking gorgeous they make you cry.

I know the physics behind the refraction of light rays, but that doesn’t change the fact that right now he looks like he has a halo. It’s fitting somehow, considering how many times he’s saved our asses here. John Sheppard, guardian angel of Atlantis and, in particular, of one Dr Rodney McKay.

All right, I’m not going to get any sleep knowing he’s out there, and only part of that is because the sight of him has me so hard I hurt. Fuck, the floor’s cold; why didn’t the Ancients develop heated tiling?

Pants, pants... there they are, last night’s sweats that got tossed in the corner once they weren’t needed any longer. Word to the wise: going to bed with any clothes on is not allowed when your lover is John Sheppard.

God, the balcony is even colder than the room, but I’ll survive because when John doesn’t notice my not so quiet approach behind him, something’s wrong.

He stiffens slightly when I slide my arms around his waist and press up against his back, the skim warming quickly with our combined body heat. The dog tags he gave me are a small disconnect between us, but soon they’re simply a conduit between us, channeling the heat and comfort.

My palm’s splayed flat on his chest, and I can feel the steady beat of his heart, the beats somewhat quicker than normal, but still even. It’s this sound I fall asleep to every night and that I wake to each morning. It’s this sound that has become the aural center of my world, the rhythmic cadence I could happily listen to for the rest of my life.

I press my hand against his chest, feeling the vibration that matches the tones in my ear, then press a kiss against his shoulder. "Good morning."

And it is.


End file.
